You Could Do Better
by ThatClutzsarahh
Summary: Nothing has ever been easy for Olivia. And now that he's here, it won't be getting easier any time soon. Season 4 compliant.
1. Chapter 1

**so, new story. season 4 compliant. (well, maybe) Peter is gone, that's for sure (or is he? -shut up) I guess you'll just have to read to find out! ;)**

**I own nothing but the typos.**

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><p>"Why are you so rigid, Olivia?"<p>

He comes up behind her, a purr in his voice. He does not know why, but she is the more beautiful of the two of them, blonde hair and suits and all. His fingers gently trace down her spine, light butterfly touches and should cause her to shiver. It would cause _his_ Olivia to shiver. But not her. She remains like a rock.

And it's oddly endearing.

He likes to think about her, all stiff and rigid at work, likes to think about the mystery behind her. She and _her_ are so different that it's almost hard to believe they are the same person. He likes to think about how she works, how she does things so methodically and with purpose. Her spontaneity is reserved, quiet. And he wants to find that- oh how he wants to find that.

She stands still and lets him unbutton her jacket for her, his fingers splaying across her stomach. He likes the muscle he finds there, rock hard and steaming with tension. And all he really wants to do is roll his fingers over the skin until they are gone and she is jelly in his palms. She was the best kind of dessert he could ever hold in his palms.

Now she is smiling, but it's so different from her smile. He really can't compare- it just wouldn't be fair. They are so different. Olivia turns around in his arms and stares at him, built strong and tough by layers of being the leader and being strong. His arms are well toned, well defined and standing at attention in his white t-shirt, dirtied by the days events.

She can't help but feel drawn to him.

_Perhaps, _She wonders, _that he can fill the hole. He can close the gap in my heart_. And as she smoothes her fingers over a strange bright orange spot she twists her mouth and looks up at him.

"What?" he asks, fingers running over her bottom lip as she bites it. He loves when she does so, for some reason it's so much sexier when she does it.

Probably because she's so stiff, so regal, so formal. And his Liv, well she's so...non formal. She's fun and casual and full of sarcasm. She's got witty comebacks at each turn and makes snarky- borderline mean- remarks to others. Especially to the woman standing in front of him now, she seems to be the object of her attention. His Liv likes nothing more than to poke at the wounds she's trying to heal.

Liv will never understand this. Not the way he's touching her.

"Maybe," she starts, "We could go to my place for dinner."

Lincoln is shocked by her declaration, and she can see it on his face. It's not a bad shocked, it's a good one as he smiles back at her.

"I've never seen your place," he adds lightly, "It'll be a nice change from the mess of mine." She laughs with him and it's the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard in his entire life. She lets go of his arms and turns around, buttoning up the jacket he had just unbuttoned. He watched her walk out of the changing room and followed her to the bridge.

Idly he wondered what the difference between their apartments would be, but he would never ask that allowed. He is sure hers is neat and tidy, just like she is. But he wonders the colors, the layout. Did she like yellow as his Liv did? He could only imagine.

Peter was thoroughly disturbed from his resting spot on _his_ side of the bed by a large man hitting the mattress. If he hadn't moved in time, he would have been squished underneath him. Rolling over to her side, he watched as his Olivia looked down hungrily at the man in Peter's place. Her fingers start at the top of her shirt as she begins to unbutton it. The man bounced back up and yanks her towards him. Peter studies his face. It was Lincoln Lee, of their universe, undressing his Olivia. He sits up on the bed and furled his hands into fists. Taking a swing at the figure, he was not surprised to see his fist go right through him.

"You are an unbelievable cook," Lincoln said, pulling Olivia down on top of him. Olivia smiled at him, curtain of wavy blonde hair tickling his side. Peter stood up and looked around the room.

Lincoln gives her a deep, strong kiss, brushing her white shirt from her shoulders, fingers splaying across her back. Her fingers soothed over his strong chest, her hips shifting slightly against his creating the most delicious of all kinds of friction.

"Mmm," Lincoln murmurs against her sugary lips, "This tastes much better than any dessert I could ever have," he mumbles into her neck. He returns to kissing her skin, the taste sweeter than all candy in the world.

Out of nowhere a vas comes sailing at them. It shatters against the wall above them, pieces falling down and striking their skin. But nothing happens. They can not feel it, see it, hear it. Peter throws another thing, this time a picture frame, watching it shatter against the wall.

"Don't do this Olivia!" he shouts angrily as the two shift, Lincoln rolling on top of her.

"Don't do this to me!" he screams, throwing another object. He needs to catch her attention, he has to catch her attention. But nothing is working. They can not feel him, or see him, or hear him. Olivia doesn't even _know_ him.

"You are so beautiful," Lincoln murmurs against her velvet skin, hands tracing down her sides. She is such a goddess, a beautiful blonde goddess underneath him with silken skin. He could not get enough of her skin in his palms, just touching her skin drove him crazy, and all he wanted to do was become buried in her softness. He likes the way she squirms beneath him, so he can worship her from above. And when she rolls them over again, he loves to worship her from beneath.

"No!" Peter screams, reaching for the covers. He yanks and it falls away, but appears back at them, underneath them, as if he never touched it in the first place. Shattered objects have returned to their places from where he took them.

Peter reaches for her and wraps his arms around her waist, passing right through her. She is too busy with her lips pressed to Lincoln's collarbone and he can't even touch her. She doesn't even feel him.

"Olivia! Stop!"

His heart is breaking as Lincoln pulls away Olivia's clothing, and he tries again to pull her away from him again. He strikes at Lincoln, pillows, blankets, sheets, but nothing. Nothing is happening. They are continuing with their actions and he can't stop them.

"Olivia," he breaks out, smashing his hand into the wall, "Olivia..." he sobs off. He grasps his hair and sinks to the floor in the corner, eyes shut, sobbing hysterically. His Olivia was right there...within reach...and out of his arms.

He covers his ears, but it won't stop the ring of her laugh or the grunt of his voice. Nothing blocks out the rocking of the bed, the squeaking of the mattress. And Peter clasps his ears in his hands, sobbing harder, louder, like a child scared shitless. He rocks himself, listening to his own breathing. The woman that meant everything to him, she was gone, out of his reach.

If only he could reach out to her, to touch her. But he's tried everything he knows. He's tried writing to her, speaking to her, laying next to her, touching her. But she ignores him like he's not even there...because he isn't. And he wants to be there. He just wants this nightmare to end.

Lincoln plays with strands of her hair on his face, blowing them up and occasionally sucking one into his mouth. He likes the way it tastes and she doesn't seem to mind the weird things he did. Her skin was slick with sweat, and he loved the way it felt as he ran his fingers across her back and over her shoulders. She purred and rolled her naked body against him, causing him to move against her. She was perfection in his arms.

"Where did you learn that?" she laughs, burying her face in his chest, inhaling the scent of his sweaty skin. It was a warm salty scent, and she enjoyed it. If she thought about it there was a spice to it, a spice that was all his.

"What?" he says rolling around.

"That one thing," she says, blushing.

"Which one thing?" he asks, "I've learned a lot of things."

And he begins attacking her skin again, drawing circles with his tongue down her chest. She's laughing and squirming but he's holding her still with his hands on her hips. She's laughing as he gets lower and gasps when he reaches that sweet spot between her legs. She screeches and giggles loudly, looking down at him with that perfect radiant smile on her lips.

And Peter can only watch from the corner, eyes blurry, face raw from tears as this man- this false love, takes his place in her heart.

He's going to win her back though. He has too.

He's not sure if he'd ever survive without her.

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><p>Okay, so this is a multi chapter fix, so don't worry, you'll get to see more! I promise! But tell me, what do you think?<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Holy COW! the response I got for this story was amazing! Thank you everyone for the comments, they mean a lot. I really wanted to get this second chapter out before Fringe for tonight shows for me, so for the record it's 8:45 when I uploaded. Thank you again to everyone who commented, it means a lot. I was a little weary to load it because it's a Lincoln/Olivia ship (FOR THE MOMENT, oh was that a spoiler?) but have no fear, it will change.**

**I own nothing but the typos.**

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><p>Olivia fixes the top button on her suit. <em>Again.<em>

His obsession with playing with her skin has to stop. _Has to stop._

"Stop!" she says, fixing the buttons again. He's wearing a sheepish grin on his face-like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"I can't help it," he whines playfully, watching her transform in front of his eyes. It's like she changes, from this beautiful, rare light to this regal and nobel animal- from playful tiger cub to full tiger. He likes the wave she twists, and he hears the pop in her spine. She bursts out laughing and he smiles too.

"A little tense, I guess," she says. She reaches over and grabs her folder off his desk. Their interaction is secretive and highly dangerous, but they stare at each other without restraint. She is so fascinating...he can't get over that. She turns back to him, straight faced and formal and he feels himself straighten up in her presence. She nods at him and he nods back, tossing in a little wink before she turns on her heel and walks away.

Astrid was right, about Lincoln Lee. It just wasn't _her_ Lincoln that caught her attention. It was theirs. He was shy, quiet, and at the same time forward and dangerous. She liked that from him. He was similar to her, but different. It was good kind of completion, a welcome warmth she hadn't felt in a while. She was more than excited to know he'd chosen her instead of _her,_ his Liv. They were, after all, complete opposites. She smiles at him and pats his cheek, a grin across his face.

"After work?" he asks, taking her fingers in his hand and rubbing his cheek against her soft palm. He is so addicted to her feel it's almost sickening, almost to the point that he needs help.

"All right," she says with a grin, "But I can't promise anything."

He smiles broadly at her, unabashedly. He knows what that means. It doesn't mean no, it's her way of confirming for sure.

"Of course," he plays along, "Only if you have time."

She smiles at him and he takes his lips and presses them against her skin one last time. She straightens up again and turns on her heel, heading down the bridge and towards her side. He takes one last glance as she leaves down the hall before turning away from her and heading back to the bridge room.

When she returns to the lab Walter is in tears and Astrid is fixing a broken bottle. Lincoln Lee, her Lincoln Lee, is standing awkwardly in the corner, glass hanging crookedly off his nose. Instantly she rushes into to Walter and wraps her fingers around his.

"It's all right Walter," she says, "It's okay."

He's mumbling incoherently, something about a man in his head. He's been on about this man for a while now, talking about seeing him,, hearing him, knowing his name. Olivia soothes the skin on his hands, carefully, trying to calm him down.

"He's here," Walter mumbles, "He's here, here, here."

"There is no one here Walter," Olivia says, "No one."

"It's the fourth time this week," Astrid says, "Do you think his meds are working?"

"Of course they're working!" he shouts, "There is a man here! I have heard him! Seen him!"

Olivia's nerves are scattered and she sighs. "Okay Walter. Is he here now?"

"No-"

"And we are," she continues, "So let's just get back to work, hmm?"

Walter nods from his fetal position and Olivia helps him up to stand. She gives him a gentle smile as he balances back onto his feet. Carefully, she throws a glance over her shoulder to Lincoln, whose posture has gone from his doubles natural stance to his slouch, comfortable again. Walter shifts again on his feet and shuffles away from Olivia. She sighs and looks fora chair to sink down into.

Walter is crazy and she knows this. But this insanity has become almost too much to bear. Recently he babbles on about a man that, it's very clear, is not here. Some man named Peter, she's never heard of before, and that he's constantly around. He's in the mirror, in the T.V. screen, in his bedroom etc. The list goes on. It's tiresome really, and Olivia wonders if he's finally broken. She has looked up any Peter in connection with Walter, but there is nothing. She's never even heard of Peter before.

Just as she sinks into a seat, exhausted and it's only 10 in the morning, Broyles comes through the door. His suit is crisp and neat and clean and it's clear he's just come from the Bridge. His eyes scan the place, still in disarray from the morning's fiasco and then lock onto Olivia, slouching in the corner.

"Dunham, Lee, Farnsworth," he says strictly, "Come with me now."

Lincoln all but jumps up, following Broyles out of the room. He's all too happy to escape this crazy charade of an FBI division. Astrid nods slowly and reaches for her ear piece, stepping out in front of Olivia. Olivia approaches Broyles and he nods, quietly speaking in her ear.

"There is a man in the device."

She looks at him, bewildered. A man? In the device? How?

"Is he alive?"

Broyles nods, "He is alive, but barely. The other side has him."

"Why?" Olivia demands, unsure of why this man is over there.

"Their Brandon found him. He heard the thump of him falling and found the man unconscious on the ground. He's pretty banged up.

"How did he get there?" Olivia asks as they shuffle towards the car. Broyles looks at her.

"We have no idea."

Lincoln watches the man lay still in the hospital room. His breathing is deep, even and his eyes are shut. His dark hair is curling and matted with blood from his fall. The respirators counted his breathing, his inhales and exhales with help. Who was he? How did he end up in the device's room? Lincoln studies the man for another moment before turning his head to see the approach Liv in all her red haired glory. She's strutting her stuff down the hospital hall looking as if she belongs on a runway. Lincoln smiles at her as she sidles up next to him.

"_They_," she says distastefully, "Are on their way."

Lincoln nods and turns back to the window. Inside he's secretly rejoicing. It is such a turn on to see _her_ in all her working glory, her snippy, boss-like tone, professional stance, and working scowl. His whole body tingles when he sees her like this, and he _loves_ it. It's erotic and exotic and just thinking about it makes his head spin. Liv is looking at him sideways, and he gives her a goofy grin.

"They aren't all that bad," he teases and she makes a face.

"I can't believe I'm so stuck up and stiff," she says, "I mean, we're opposites."

Lincoln really wanted to laugh hard at how wrong she was. But he says nothing, instead he turns his head down the hall to see _her_, Olivia, walking down the hallway in a strict black suit, hands in her pockets. Her Broyles, Astrid and...was that him? HIs train of thoughts stop as he stares at his alternate. A nerdy boy, suit and tie, glasses and slick hair. Lincoln focuses on him as they stop near him. His eyes seem trained on him as well.

Broyles interrupts the awkward silence with the introductions. And it was true, it was him. Lincoln reaches his hand out to shake _his_ hand, studying him carefully.

"So," Olivia breaks the silence with, "What do you know?"

Liv answers her, "Well not much. Brandon found him-"

"Where is he?"

Lincoln clears his throat, "The waiting room. I'll take you to him."

Olivia eyes him and nods, looking at Broyles. He agrees and lets her go, watching her step forward. Olivia's double stares at her with distain, almost begging Lincoln to let her go with him. But Lincoln shakes his head, Olivia wont bite...at least not here. he smirks as he leads her down the hall He can feel her smile on his back, but he doesn't look back, not until they are out of view. He turns to her then.

"Well," he says as they stop in front of the waiting room, "Such an eventful day."

"Very much, Mr. Lee," she says with a very tight tone. He nods and grins, pushing open the door.

Brandon is quiet, sitting at the table, eyes on his hands. Olivia looks at him as she enters, catching his eyes. He's startled at first, curious at this Olivia. He knows that it's the Olivia he's tortured, and...is that fear she sees? He straightens up and she does too, fixing herself as she crosses the room.

"Mr. Fayette," she says coolly, abusing her power to frighten him. He nods as she slides in across from him. She dislikes him greatly, but she wont say anything. Instead she folds her hands in front of her. "What can you tell me?"

He shakes his head and inhales, "Not much," he says formally, "I was working when I heard a horrible creak coming from the machine. I looked up and there he was, this man, being torn apart in the machines. All the equipment started buzzing, the levels in the room shot up to red and then everything stopped. He fell to the ground."

"Did he say anything?"

Brandon shook his head, "When I got to him he was barely conscious, moaning and groaning. There was blood coming from his head."

Olivia nods, standing up. "And he didn't say anything?"

Brandon was quiet for a moment. "I did ask what his name was," he says, "He said his name was Peter."

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><p><em>Yayyy chapter two! What do you think? Too much information or just enough? and is Peter back? OH you'll have to wait to find out!<em>


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